


Words

by scifichicx



Category: Minority Report (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M, First Person, Gen, Language, Mentions of Violence, Season Finale, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5328962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scifichicx/pseuds/scifichicx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Major spoilers for Everybody Runs, the season finale of Minority Report. </p>
<p>Arthur talks to Andromeda after the end of the episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

We met in the sprawl. I’d been there for about three months and had just started to get my feet under me. I went to the bar for a con and saw you holding court in the back. The flood of information cascading off of you seemed- lucrative. I dropped the con and walked over to say hello. 72 bullets, 3 knives and your brass knuckles- I wasn’t as naïve as you thought. 

You ignored me, rolled your eyes, and I kept chugging away at trying to endear myself to you. At the time it was useful. But you were interesting and better than the crew of low-lives that followed you around, salivating at your heels for scraps. You were always better than them. 

When I got your name, a red ball bullet to the head, I woke up in a cold sweat. I didn’t see anything. That’s not how it works for me. I had to go off of what I knew about you. I got there in time to save you, but I wish I’d been faster. You were coughing, bleeding on the ground. I picked you up and ran you to the doc down the street. He saved your life. 

You were quiet when you woke up; bruised and stitched. I stayed with you and finally told you that you were better than all of it. It didn’t matter as much then, but you seemed to appreciate that I was the one person that didn’t want to see you die like a dog in that warehouse. I promised you- 

I promised one thing. 

“Stick with me. I can keep you safe.” 

I didn’t mean it like you took it; like the strong macho man defending the little lady. I know you can fight and protect yourself. You just don’t know about murders before they happen. 

It took a while to get to that revelation. 

We upgraded from squatting to a shitty apartment at the edge of the sprawl. You liked the way they painted the numbers on the doors and the fact that it didn’t smell like vomit. I liked that it had running water and a lock. I knew you had money- lots of fucking money- but you were never interested in sitting on the throne of your daddy's criminal kingdom. 

I thought you were going to leave and never come back the night I told you the truth. Despite knowing my particular criminal skill set, I should have known that stating I was a fucking precog wouldn’t just go over without a hitch. When you left, slamming the door- I started to pack. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to leave the little home you built next to me.

I sent you a text. Short. Apologetic. 

You replied with, ‘wait.’

We did always follow your lead.

Money came in; good money. Not having to hide how I knew what I knew opened up a lot of opportunity. Our secrets slipped out to each other piece by piece. I was happy.

The big con almost went so wrong. I’m still sorry I disappeared like that. But hey, when I walked out of the classy new apartment building a month later, polished in my jacket and tie- come on, you gotta admit it was a hell of an entrance. Or exit- whatever. 

You could have gotten your own place any time along the way. I’m glad you didn’t. Maybe it’s a stupid side effect of being a twin, but having someone there- no, having you there- made everything better. I felt grounded and clear. You taught me how to meditate. You came along when I learned how to dance. You got drunk with me. You held me when I fell apart. 

You made life good. 

Shit.

There’s a hole where my heart used to be. Sentimental, I know, but here we are. Words are- so pointless. They are in fact one of the easiest things to falsify. Words are not what we are or ever have been. I know you know how I felt- feel- about you. I know I didn’t need to spell it out. I don’t feel like I missed any opportunity I should have taken or withheld a single thing from you. 

That wasn’t who we were with each other. 

You are my best friend. You taught me what trust is. You gave me a world outside of murder and milkbaths. 

There are no words that adequately describe everything you have been for me. 

I’m so sorry, Andromeda…

I’m sorry I didn’t keep my promise.


End file.
